


Bad Things Happen Bingo!

by ShadeCrawler



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Amputation, Arm in a Sling, Bad Things Happen Bingo, Coming back wrong, Hives, Hospitals, King!Roman, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Mermaids, Murder, Necromancy, Osteomyelitis, Penicillin allergies, Sirens, Surgery, allergic reactions, ghost!Remus, ghost!roman
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-08-02
Packaged: 2021-03-03 20:06:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 12,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24831322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadeCrawler/pseuds/ShadeCrawler
Summary: Hi there! I'm doing a Bad Things Happen Bingo card over on Tumblr and I'm going to post them over here too!
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders/Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders
Comments: 16
Kudos: 94





	1. Coming Back Wrong

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Roman can't believe what his brother's done, he just can't believe it. Of all the ways Remus and Janus could've dealt with their grief, why did they have to do this?

“I can’t believe you! How could you do this, Remus!? How?!”

Remus rolled his eyes, accepting a tray from his personal servant. He ignored how his servant kept his eyes on the ground with a pale shaky look to him. “Hey, is it really my fault that Necromancy is super easy to figure out? Janus and I figured it out in less than a month.” He turned and grinned at his older brother, looking uncomfortable and out of place in Remus’ bed chambers. “Get that grumpy look off your face! Look, we fixed everything!”

“Fix-” Roman stormed forward, waving his arms wildly, “Necromancy is banned, Remus! If you weren’t a Prince then you and Janus would be thrown into the dungeon and V-” Roman cut himself off with a pained grimace. “...The person you brought back would be granted a mercy kill. The Nobles Families are already pushing for that to happen and I... I...”

Remus gripped the tray with his and his consorts’ dinner on it tightly, his knuckles turning white. “Finish that fucking sentence,” he hissed, glaring at Roman. “Finish it. I fucking _dare_ you.”

There was a long tense silence where nothing happened except the two brothers staring at each other, one glaring defensively and the other with a pleading look in his eyes. The silence was broken with a low groan from the other occupant of the room. Remus fixed a smile to his face and brushed past Roman, sitting on the edge of the bed. “Hey, Sleepyhead. Glad to see you awake!”

Virgil’s eyes slowly opened, his unnatural purple eyes having a tired glaze to them. While his body had been restored exactly to how it had been before his death - no decay and the gaping hole in his stomach gone like it had never been there in the first place - there were dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept in months. Which he had, of course. He had barely done anything but sleep. “Remus,” he whispered. His voice was so soft and quiet that Remus could barely pick up on it. “Where’s Lo? And Pat? They were just here.”

Remus heard Roman’s breath hitch at the mention of Virgil’s long dead older brothers but didn’t react besides gently smoothing down Virgil’s bangs. “That was just a dream, Stormcloud. Hey, why don’t we have dinner? I got your favourite. Remember the chef’s special pie? I got a whole slice just for you.”

“It tastes like ash,” Virgil whispered. He stared at Remus with eyes that looked devoid of life. “Everything tastes like ash.”

“It’s just a little side effect, Stormy. Janus said that’d your tastebuds would come back soon, I promise,” Remus vowed, taking Virgil’s shaking hard and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. He grinned over his shoulder at Roman, ignoring that pale sheen to his brother’s face. “See?! He’s back and as good as new!”

Virgil’s slowly turned to look at Roman, a thin and pained smile spreading across his face. “My King? You did survive. I, I told Logan and Patton I saved you and I did.” he reached out to Roman, the King immediately taking it in his own.

Roman knelt by Virgil’s bed, pressing Virgil’s hand to his cheek. “You did save me,” he whispered, tears pooling in his eyes. “You did and I’m so proud of you. You were the best of my King’s guard. I wrote of your accomplishes and,” his voice trembled and Roman took a shaky breath, “and my people sing songs of your bravery. Virgil the Brave, they call you.”

“The Brave,” Virgil whispered back. His smile widened but it looked wrong, like butter spread over too thinly over bread. “I like that. Patton told me, he told me when he died to be brave.” He blinked in confusion when Roman’s tears started trailing down his cheeks. “My K-King? What’s wrong? Did I, did I upset you?”

Roman laughed wetly and shook his head. “No, no my friend. You didn’t upset me. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You look so tired.” He cupped Virgil’s cheek, looking over him and asked softly, “How are you feeling? Are you okay?”

“I’m tired,” Virgil whispered. He rubbed at his eyes and whispered out, “I’m just so tired.”

“Then perhaps we should leave you to rest, my Dearest.”

Remus and Roman turned to the doorway where Janus, the Court’s Wizard, stood. The scales spreading across his face glittered in the light of the setting light, giving him an otherworldly look. “It’s been a long day for you,” Janus hummed, walking forward and tucking the blankets up to Virgil’s chin. “You had a walk in the gardens in the morning and then you and I read some books. It’s been a productive day.”

Virgil blinked at him slowly and took his hand. “Okay,” he whispered softly. He looked up at Janus and asked softly, “Do you think I’ll see Patton and Logan again in my dreams?”

“I’m sure you will,” Janus hummed, gently kissing Virgil’s cheek. He took Remus’ hand and pulled him up. “You have a good rest, Dearest. We’ll be joining you in just a few minutes after we say goodbye to the King.” He turned and looked at Roman, arching an eyebrow at the tears dripping of Roman’s chin. “My King? Shall we?”

Roman’s jaw trembled and he croaked out, “This isn’t right. This isn’t _right_ , Remus. Janus, you are the Court’s Wizard and you know that this isn’t right. Look at him,” he cried, waving a hand at a confused Virgil. “Is this what you wanted?! He was at rest, who are you to-” He cut himself off as a cold wind blew through the air, blowing off the candles and oil lamp.

Janus stood up straight, glaring at his King with bright golden eyes. “I am his Husband, that’s who I am,” he hissed, his voice echoing with power. “It wasn’t his time, I _know_ this. If it wasn’t for you, then we’d never have to do this in the first place. If you hadn’t needed Virgil to jump in front of you and get-” he cut himself off and looked away, his face softening slightly as he stared at Virgil. “Leave,” he said softly, the power disappearing from his voice. “My Dearests and I will be having a private dinner tonight.”

There was a long, tense silence that was only broken by Virgil whispering, “Why can’t King Roman stay? Patton and Logan are going to be staying.”

“No, Dearest,” Janus said, smiling at him gently with a sad look in his eyes. “No, they won’t be. And the King has things to do. Perhaps tomorrow.” He glanced back at Roman, narrowing his eyes at the still crying King. “King Roman... you’re busy, aren’t you?”

“...Yes,” Roman whispered. He smiled at Virgil sadly, not bothering to wipe away the tears. “I’ll visit with you tomorrow, my friend.” He left with tears still rolling down his face. He closed the door behind him, just as he let out a sob.

How could Remus have done this?


	2. Arm in a Sling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patton feels like he's in a nightmare. His arm in a sling, his brother gone, and everyone staring at him with hate in their eyes. If only they believe him. Why didn't they believe him?

Patton walked through the school’s halls, feeling stares follow him and stick to the white cast wrapped around his forearm. Logan and Janus walked on either side of him and threw glares at anyone that dared lingered too long. But Patton felt their eyes on his back as they walked away.

_“Did you hear what they told the police?”_

“Just ignore them,” Janus hissed in Patton’s ear. Their hand was gripping Patton’s hand tightly and their words were brimming with confidence, sure that every word that they said was true. “They are mindless sheep and if they knew what we did, they’d be running through the streets in panic. Just ignore what they say.”

How could Patton possibly ignore them? When what they were accusing him was so terrible, so awful, that it made Patton want to cry?

_“I heard that they claimed that Virgil didn’t actually die. They said that he was taken instead.”_

Logan’s hand was like a vice on his shoulder, grounding Patton to reality, a reality that was so hard to understand lately. “They will eat their words soon enough,” he muttered, a hard steely glint in his eyes. “After we bring your brother back, he will tell them exactly what happened and they’ll see that we never lied.

Patton managed a short nod, glancing out a nearby window and looking at the old mansion that stood on the highest hill in town, looming over everything. Even as far away as Patton was, he had the feeling that he was watched. Though, it could’ve just been the hateful stares coming from the other students. Not that Patton could blame them. Virgil was such a sweetheart, it was hard not to love him.

_“Taken? By who?”_

“We’ll sneak back out there tonight,” Janus muttered, pausing by their locker and shoving their bag in. “We know what we’re doing this time. What to bring and what to say. It was a mistake bringing Virgil and you last time but we know that now and we know how to save him.”

_“The ghosts of the Prince Brothers who used to live in that house. Now that’s rich. Even if there really were ghosts in that mansion, why would they want anything to do with the Heart Brothers?”_

Patton swallowed and asked, pulling on the strings of his brother’s abandoned hoodie with his good hand, “I still don’t understand why they took him and not both of us. I mean…” He trailed off and gripped the strings tight, pressing his injured arm close to his chest. 

Logan adjusted his glasses, giving Patton a look mixed with sadness and relief. “They tried, Patton. I suspect that you hadn’t tripped back and broke that old stairs’ railing than you would’ve been taken right alongside your brother.”

_“You don’t know!? Dude, Patton and Virgil’s great-great-grandfather were one of the Prince Brothers! They changed their name since them but their family used to live on that hill!”_

“Oh,” Patton whispered lamely. He stared down at his cast and cringed as he remembered falling from the second floor of a mansion where he and his brother had once played and the face that had stared down at him with bright glowing red eyes. “I-I’m still surprised that the railing broke so easily. That old house has really gone downhill, hasn’t it?”

Somehow, Patton didn’t think that it was just time that had broken down his old home.

_“Seriously!? Dude, that’s wild! Patton and Virgil were related to - damn! But still, why would they go for Virgil? I mean, if they’re really related to the Princes, why would they try to, I don’t know, kill them or whatever?”_

Janus scowled, glaring out the window at the mansion. “It doesn’t matter how downhill it is,” they said darkly. “After we get Virgil back from them, we’re burning that fucking mansion to the ground. It should’ve been burnt to the house years ago.”

“I can agree to that,” Logan muttered. “The better solution would be burning whatever is tying them to this world but I suppose we’ll just burn the entire house instead. Hopefully, that will fix everything.”

“But what if it doesn’t,” Patton asked softly, hands shaking hard. His arm throbbed his uninjured hand gripped the injured one, trying to stop the trembles. “What if, what if whatever’s tying them here isn’t in the house? What if it just makes them angry?”

_“Hell if I know, dude. Besides, does it matter? It’s not like any of this matters. Patton Heart is a dirty liar and a brother killer on top of that. This ghost bullshit is just that.”_

Janus clenched their fists tightly and spat out, “Then we’ll find whatever the hell it is and burn that too. We’ll do whatever it fucking takes. I don’t care what their reasons are for trying to take you two. You’re here and it’s not up to them whether or not that continues or not.”

“But I-” Patton cut himself off, his jaw clicking with how quickly he closed his mouth.

_“Well, obviously. I’m just wondering what the liar’s reasoning is for the ‘ghosts’ taking his brother. I mean, what, did Patton just say the ghosts were just trying to kill them or something?”_

There was a pause where Janus and Logan stared at him. “But what Patton,” Logan asked gently. “What is it?”

Patton hesitated before saying softly, “I don’t think they wanted to kill us. The one who tried to grab me looked so scared when I fell and they were wailing and… The one with the green eyes was beaming when he grabbed Virgil was sunk into the floor. He was babbling about how he was so happy to have family back in the house and how angry he was when our Mum made our Dad move us away. I think… they just wanted their family back.”

_“No. He said that the ghosts just wanted their family back.”_

“Well, the ghosts can’t force you or Virgil to stay with them,” Janus said firmly. They placed their hand gently on Patton’s cast, their fingers brushing against the sling. “We got you out and tonight, we’ll get Virgil out. I promise.”

_“What a weak ass excuse. Like ghosts care about their families after they die.”_

Patton nodded firmly, trying to ignore how the ghosts with red eyes had called him ‘Grandson’ and pleaded with him not to leave when Patton had run away. “Right. We’ll get him back.”


	3. Allergic Reaction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Logan doesn't expect to wake up in the middle of the night to find hives on his husband back.

Logan grunted as he woke up late at night, rubbing at his eyes weakly. Virgil was cuddled close in his arms with the smaller man’s face pressed against Logan’s collarbone. It was a very quiet night and even their infant son was fast asleep in the crib beside their bed. There was absolutely no reason for Logan to be awake and it annoyed him to no end that he was. But sadly, there was nothing Logan could do now. Once he was awake, there was nothing that he could do to get back to sleep.

And it had been such a good sleep too. Dreamless - as far as Logan remembered - and lovely. Logan sighed and reached out blindly to the bedside table, slapping his palm gently against the surface until he found his glasses and pushed them onto his face. The room came more into focus, the moonlight coming through the window lighting it up. Logan glanced over to the nearby crib and softened when he was his son that he and Virgil had adopted just a few weeks ago holding his bright green octopus stuffy tightly. Logan’s lips quirked into a warm smile. For one brief moment, he considered getting out of bed, taking Remus and going downstairs to sit in the rocking chair. Perhaps read a book of fairy tales to the boy.

But then Logan remembered how much and for how long Remus had cried when Virgil had accidentally woken him up during his nap the day before and decided against it.

“You are so cute when you are sleeping, my star child,” Logan whispered softly with a fond smile on his lips. He tensed when Remus shifted, internally wishing that the baby would stay sleeping, only relaxing when Remus drifted back off. Logan sighed and glanced down to Virgil, whispering softly, “I am so happy and relieved that he’s sleeping through the night now, Darling. I love our son but I love getting a good night’s sleep almost as much.” He rubbed his hand up and down Virgil’s spine gently, chuckling softly when Virgil curled closer to him. “Perhaps we can call your brother tomorrow and he can take Remus for the,” he trailed off, a spark of terror going through him.

There was a lump on Virgil’s lower back.

The grogginess that had been clouding Logan’s vision immediately cleared, replaced with a stark sense of panic. Lumps, what did lumps mean? Tumours, hernias, cancer? “Virgil,” Logan whispered, shaking him gently. “Virgil, wake up.”

Virgil groaned, pulling away from him and rolling away. “Go away,” he whined, giving Logan a gentle kick. “Go ‘way, Lo, it’s night time.”

Logan reached out to give Virgil another shake before pausing. Now that Logan could see Virgil’s back clearly he could see that it wasn’t just one lump. It was several, all spread across Virgil’s lower back and Logan could see the start of some on Virgil’s sides too. And they weren’t lumps at all, they were hives. Virgil was having an allergic reaction.

“Dearest,” Logan whispered, shaking his shoulder gently, still alert and panicked. He racked his mind, trying to think of something that could’ve caused this. “Dearest, what did you eat yesterday? Did you take any medicine?”

“I ate everything you ate,” Virgil groaned, swatting at his hand. “And just the penicillin for the root canal that I had last week.”

Logan paused. He remembered that his younger cousin had a penicillin allergy and her symptoms looked very, very similar to Virgil’s. A late reaction, perhaps? Either way, this was not something they could put off until morning. “Virgil, you have to wake up. You’re having an allergic reaction.” He leaned over and hissed through his teeth at the slight swelling in Virgil’s cheeks. “And a bad one at that.”

Immediately, Virgil was awake and looking at Logan with wide eyes. “Allergic reaction? What?” He glanced down at his bare stomach and paled when he saw the hives. His breath hitched and his hands started to tremble.

“Shhhh, Dearest, it’ll be alright,” Logan promised, taking his hands and squeezing gently. “I will get ready for a drive to the hospital. Call your brother and ask him to take Remus for the night, okay?”

“Okay,” Virgil whispered shakily, sitting up and reaching for his phone. 

Logan took a calming breath, standing up and walking over to Remus, picking him up gently along with his baby blanket and octopus stuffy. “Shhhh,” he cooed when the baby started to crack his eyes open, swaying back and forth, “Shhh, it’s alright, Sweetheart. We’re just going for a little drive, that’s all. There we go, go back to sleep. No, don’t wake up, please go back to sleep.” Logan sighed in relief when Remus’ eyes slipped back closed. “Good, good,” he whispered. “Let’s get you in the car seat and Uncle Janus will meet us at the hospital.”

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too long of a stay.


	4. Amputation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Remus is not at all worried about his surgery. Not at all. Not one bit. Now if only everyone else would stop worrying too.

Hospitals smelt like absolute, sterilized shit.

Remus couldn’t fucking stand hospitals. Just the smell alone made Remus want to stay far away from hospitals for his entire life. Like, Remus got it. The people who worked there saved lives and the world would probably die without them. But Remus _really_ hated hospitals. Maybe the problem was that they didn’t get enough money? Or that usually only shitty things happened at hospitals? Or maybe because of how many times Remus had been in one recently and he had only gotten shitty fucking news?

Whatever. No matter the reason, hospitals were still at the top of Remus’ shit list at the moment.

Plus, the gowns were itchy. Though, that might just be Remus’ opinion. He currently had one tied around in and was lying in a bed, waiting impatiently for the stupid kiddie clock - which was actually pretty cool because it was shaped like an octopus - hung on the opposite wall to hit three o’clock. Remus was _so_ ready for this to be over with so he could go back home. Roman had promised to make whatever he wanted for dinner when Remus came back and Remus was so craving pancakes with cheese sauce.

Remus sighed and glanced over at his Dad, who was sitting next to him and reading a battered old Highlights magazine. “How much longer,” he whined, giving Patton his best pout. “We’ve been waiting here _forever_!”

“We’ve been waiting here for two hours, Sweetie,” Patton said gently, putting the magazine down on his knee. He glanced at the clock hanging opposite from them. “Well, it looks like you only got about twenty more minutes to go, Hon. Are you nervous?”

The question had been asked so many times by so many people lately that Remus could barely manage a scoff. “Me? Nervous? Nah, not at all! Hey, it’ll be pretty cool, if you think about it!” He forced a gasp and grabbed Patton’s wrist. “Do you think they’ll film it? Could I watch it later!?”

Patton laughed and shook his head fondly. “I don’t think so, Kiddo. But I’ll ask your doctor, okay? But if we do get it then no showing your siblings, okay? Especially don’t let Virgil catch you watching it, he would have nightmares for weeks. He’s already so worried about today.”

Remus’ jaw clenched at the memory of his two-year-old brother sobbing just a few hours ago and trying to cling to Remus’ hand. Virgil hated hospitals just as much as Remus and, unlike Remus, he didn’t have the _maturity_ and _wisdom_ that Remus had to understand why he hated them or remember just how long he had spent there as a baby. “He doesn’t have any reason to worry,” Remus spat, hating the pit of fear that was growing in his gut. “The doctors said that this is the best option for me and even if I’ll have to do therapy and stuff, I should be just fine.”

“Oh, Honey, he’s only a toddler, he doesn’t understand what’s happening,” Patton said gently, taking Remus’ hand and squeezing it. “All he understands is that his big brother is in pain and is going away to a scary place and is going to come back without one of his legs. He’s much too young to know what osteomyelitis is.”

“I’m fourteen and I don’t even fully understand what this stupid disease is,” Remus muttered, crossing his arms. So many people had tried explaining it to him and all Remus fully understood was that some stupid fungi had injected his right leg bone and they had caught it so late that amputation was the only option. “But I know that he shouldn’t be worried. It’ll be fine and he didn’t need to be crying so much. Logan and Roman weren’t crying.”

And, _no_ , Remus wasn’t disappointed that Logan and Roman - old enough to understand what was happening - didn’t cry like Virgil had or looked worried. Not that there was any reason to be worried but it would’ve been _nice_ for them to pretend to be worried!

Patton squeezed his hand again, looking down at him sympathetically. “Trust me, kiddo, they were crying plenty last night. Logan’s been looking up the operation ever since he learnt what you have and Roman is so scared about his twin. They were trying to be strong for you, that’s-”

“But there’s no reason to be worried,” Remus cried, throwing out his arms in frustration. “There isn’t, I’m going to be fine and there’s no reason for anyone to worry!” His eyes were filling with sudden tears and his jaw trembled with the force of keeping them back. “I-I’m gonna come home and annoy everyone a-and t-they don’t need to worry ‘bout me cause I am gonna be f-fine!” He sobbed and pressed the palms of his hands into his eyes, images of all the things that could go wrong flashing through his mind.

Arms wrapped around his shoulders and pulled him forward until he was leaning against his dad’s chest. “Shhh, shhhh, you’re okay, you’re going to be okay,” Patton cooed, rubbing a hand up and down Remus’ back. “You’re gonna be fine, kiddo.”

“They’re gonna take my leg,” Remus sobbed, gripping Patton’s shirt so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. “D-don’t let them take my leg, don’t let them, Papa!”

“Oh, Kiddo,” Patton sighed, resting his cheek on the top of Remus’ head and holding him close. “Sweetheart, I wish I could stop them from taking your leg. If I could, I’d take this infection and put it in my own leg so you wouldn’t have to lose yours. But I can’t, Sweetie, and I’m so sorry. And I know this is very scary but I’ll be right outside the room the entire time. And I’m going to buy you the best prosthetic that money can buy, I promise.”

Remus sniffled and he rubbed at his eyes, looking up at Patton sadly. “O-one with some design?”

Patton gave him a wobbly smile and nodded, kissing Remus’ forehead. “I’ll buy you two. A plain one and one with any design that you want on it. We’ll do it together, okay baby?”

“Okay,” Remus sniffled, leaning back against Patton and closing his eyes. “…How long now?”

“…Two minutes.”

Remus’ breath hitched and he fought back the urge to vomit. It’d be hilarious but then they’d have to wait even longer for this surgery to take place. “I’m scared,” he admitted softly. “I’m so scared, Papa.”

“I’ll be right outside the surgery room and I’ll be right there when you wake up,” Patton promised softly, sounding like he was holding back tears. It made Remus want to dig a hole in the ground and cry. He was making his Papa cry. “And as soon as the Doctors say you’re ready, we’ll go home and see your brothers and Uncle Janus, okay?”

Remus sniffled and nodded, wiping away the tears trailing down his cheeks.”Okay,” he whispered. He let out a shaky breath and forced a smile. “It’ll be okay.”

“Remus?” The two of them turned to see a Doctor and a Nurse waiting for them. “We’re ready for you.”

Remus glanced at Patton nervously and got a confident smile in return. “You’ll be okay,” Patton said, looking so sure that he might as well had been saying that the sky was blue. “I’ll be right next to you when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” Remus said softly, turning to the Doctor and Nurse. “I’m ready.”


	5. Reluctant Caretaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Janus has no idea how to care for children and never expected to have to care for one. Unfortunately, sometimes unexpected things happen and Janus now finds himself caring for his one-year-old nephew.

“Unnnnnnnnn’caaaaaaaaa, ‘Anu!”

Janus groaned, cracking his eyes open and rubbing at his eyes sleepily. He glanced at his alarm clock and after blinking a few times, he groaned again when he saw just how early it was. “Fucking- ugh,” he muttered, rubbing his hand down his face. He sighed and got up, slowly walking out of the room.

“Unnnnnnnnn’caaaaaaaaa, ‘Anu!”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Janus muttered, yawning so hard that his jaw clicked. He walked into the room that had been nothing but a guest room a few days ago - when things had still been normal and Janus didn’t have to worry about raising a baby - and to the old crib that he had gotten three splinters setting up. 

His nephew was standing up in the crib and looking up at Janus with wide eyes and a bright grin. He bounced up and down and made grabby hands at Janus. “Un’ca ‘Anu’, up! Up!”

Janus yawned and picked Patton up, bracing him against his hip. “Yes, Uncle Janus is up now. Though, the fact that either of us is up at four fifteen is a crime,” he told the one-year-old seriously. 

And in return for the great wisdom that he had given his nephew, Patton reached up and grabbed Janus’ nose. Well… Janus supposed that he had gotten worse feedback from people who he had given advice to.

“Alright now, no playing games now,” Janus hummed sleepily, gently moving Patton’s hand away and walking out of the used-to-be-a-guest-room. He glanced out the window and sighed. The stupid sun could already be seen peeking up over the horizon. “Are you hungry? Is that why you woke me up?”

“’anna ‘ee Daddy,”

Janus froze right at the top of the stairs, feeling like he had just been slapped. He had been so good pushing back and ignoring the heart-crushing grief, confusion, and helplessness that the last few days had brought. And with three words, his one-year-old nephew had almost completely toppled all the walls that Janus had put up to try and cope. Janus took a shaky breath, eyes burning with unshed tears. “I’m afraid that you can’t see your Daddy right now,” he said softly, walking down the stairs. “You’re living with me for now, Patton. I… will explain in the morning, okay?”

Patton gave him a look with so much of Virgil’s stubbornness that Janus almost let out a sob. Virgil had barely had Patton for a year and his son was already so much like him. 

“For now, let’s think of better things,” Janus said with forced chipper in his voice. He walked into the kitchen grabbed a small box of cheerios from his cupboard. “Even though it’s far too early to be up and awake, five o’clock is also the time when the old cartoons come on. I used to watch these shows with your daddy when I was just a toddler and he was your age.” He managed a weak smile as he walked into the living room. “Doesn’t that sound fun?”

“Yes,” Patton chirped, grinning at Janus widely that wrinkled the stark white bandaid that he had gotten at the hospital. “Yes!”

Janus chuckled, sitting down in his favourite old armchair, shifting Patton so he was in one arm so he could open up the box of cheerios. “Did you watch these shows with your daddy? Or did Mr. Lawyer show his son more serious shows? Educational programs?” He got a blank stare in response and decided that it was far too early in the morning to use big words with his nephew. So instead he just switched the channel until he found old reruns of ‘The Bugs Bunny and Tweety Show”.

Besides, Patton’s excited cry of, “T’eety!” made Janus think that maybe this wasn’t the first time he had watched these shows.

* * *

* * *

* * *

Janus’ shoes clicked against the hospital tiles, the only sound in the eerily quiet hallway. He could hear distant coughs and the quiet sound of people talking but here, in the long term care section of the hospital at eight o’clock in the morning, there wasn’t much noise. And it made Janus so sad. His poor baby brother didn’t belong in a place like this.

He stopped outside the last door in the hallway, knocking gently at the half-open door. “Good morning,” he said softly, walking in and draping his coat over one of the chairs. He sat down with a sigh. “I’m sorry that I’m here so early but your son woke me up at four AM. I left him with my friends so I can come to see you. Please don’t worry about your son, Virgil. Logan and Remus are good people and they already love Patton.“ He took off his bowler hat and put it in his lap, tapping his finger against it gently. “Do you have anything to say about that?”

Of course Virgil didn’t. Though, Janus supposed that he couldn’t be too upset with his brother. It was rather hard to speak with tubes down your throat. And the fact that Virgil was in a coma made it even harder, Janus was sure.

Virgil was lying completely still on his hospital bed, looking strangely peaceful. He didn’t seem bothered at the dark purple bruises on his cheeks or the stitched-up cut on his forehead. And then Janus remembered how he had looked a few days ago when he had first been brought to the hospital and had to look away.

“Your friend Roman came to my house the other day,” Janus said, forcing himself to continue. He had to speak talking. He feared what would come out of his mouth if he didn’t. “I must say, Roman may not be as interesting as his brother but he is a good lawyer. He’s pushing me to press charges and he is assuring me that I would have a very good case.” He snorted and shook his head. “Though, I suppose that you don’t have to be a good lawyer to know that driving while is against the law.”

When there was no response to his words, Janus sighed and reached forward, gently putting a hand over Virgil’s bruised one. “Do you remember how happy I was when you made me Patton’s Godfather,” he whispered softly and with a slight tremble to his words. “Well, I change my mind. Virgil… I have no idea how to care for a baby. You have to wake up so you can raise your son. Please.” He laughed and blinked, vision turning a little blurry. “I am begging, Virgil. You have to wake up. I can’t do this. I don’t know how to do this.”

The only response Janus received was the steady beeping of Virgil’s heart monitor. It looked like Janus was on his own for now.


	6. Memory Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Five Years ago, Virgil was discovered on the edge of a town in a bronze net with deep cuts on his face and no memory. Now, Virgil has a quiet life in a town that he loves. And that town is getting a new Temple for the God of Family and Safe Havens.
> 
> Prompt: Bad Things Bingo request: Memory Loss with the Sides as a pantheon of gods.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, guys, I accidentally deleted the last few paragraphs and had to rewrite them. I finished this tonight out of spite.

Virgil fucking hated snow.

There was no good thing about snow. Not one damn thing and Virgil was willing to stake his life on that claim. In fact, every good thing about Virgil’s life slowed to a stop when fall ended and the snow started to fall. Snow was cold, killed all of the crops that Virgil spent all year growing, and made travel into town a damn bitch. And, on top of everything else, it made the scars surrounding Virgil’s eyes and temples ache to no end. The only thing that helped with the aches and pains was the medicine that his friend Elliott sold. And where did Elliott sell the medicine?

All the way in town. So, yeah, Virgil _hated_ snow.

He sighed as he climbed out of his bed, the cold from outside seeping into his bones. Virgil’s home was a small one-bedroom house with a small fireplace, a bed that he had pressed against two walls, small knickknacks and gifts placed on shelves that Virgil had built himself, and a small rug in front of the door to the outside. The fire that he had built the night before had gone out, with only glowing embers left in Virgil’s tiny fireplace now. The bowl with half of Virgil’s leftover dinner was left beside his bed, which Virgil immediately grab to slowly pick at.

Virgil glanced over at a small mirror on the wall that Elliott had given him, gently wiping at his eyes and trying his best to avoid his scars. There were deep and rough scars around Virgil’s eyes - as if someone had tried carving them out with a knife but never truly committed to the idea - and two identical thin, deep scars on each of his temples. Virgil’s nose was crooked like it had been broken many times before and one of his eyes didn’t open all the way. He wasn’t the prettiest man ever but, as Elliott had once said, he was just lucky to still be alive. Not that Virgil cared about the scars or how he looked. He honestly just wished that he remembered how he got the damn scars.

Or any part of his life before waking up in the town’s local Doctor’s office. He had woken up nearly five years ago with no memory. Elliott had found him on the outskirts of town, caught in a bright bronze net and left for dead, and had immediately brought him to the town’s Doctor. The town had been gracious enough to provide Virgil with a small house and some land to make a living off of. Virgil had been given far, far more than a poor, ugly man like him ever deserved and he had tried his best to pay the town back ever since. He gave deals to the town folks on his carrots and beets, he did odd jobs in the winter for half the price he charged for out of towners, and when the town announced that they would be making a temple for the God of Family and Safe Havens, Virgil went out and chopped down as many of his own trees that they would need.

Even if Virgil wasn’t sure what he thought about these Gods, he would give everything and anything to the people who had given him a home, their food, and the clothes off their back.

Though, it wasn’t like what he gave was anything special. Though the farmwork he did was hard and backbreaking, the corps flourished under Virgil’s hands. It wasn’t like he ever did anything special. He just did what every other farmer did. Maybe it was just that Virgil did what he loved. Waking up early and going out to work with his vegetables and his two little fruit trees were hard but Virgil loved it so much that anyone who happened to walk onto his land had a good chance of hearing him sing as he worked. As long as what he did made the town happy, Virgil was happy.

Virgil was startled from his thoughts from banging on his door, the excited voice of his best friend calling from outside, “Virgil! Virgil, wake up, wake up!” Virgil yawned shuffled over to the door, opening it with a tired smile. “Hey, Elli. What’s up?”

Elliott beamed at him and surged forward, grabbing Virgil’s arms and making him shiver from the snow and frost on their mittens. “It’s finished! The builders, you know the ones who said that they wouldn’t be able to finish until Spring? The mayor paid them double and they finished! The Temple is opening up tonight and they’re going to be putting out a feast!” They let go of Virgil, stumbling over to the spot on the floor where Virgil’s damp coat, mittens, and gloves had been dumped.

Virgil could only gawk at them, feeling like his brain was having trouble catching up to what Elliott was saying. “It’s _finished_?! How, when- I haven’t heard anything about the builders starting up again! When did this even happen?!”

“They worked through the night for the last month,” Elliott squealed, practically throwing Virgil’s winter wear at him. “And, dude, I can’t believe I’m even gonna be saying this,” Elliott took Virgil’s hands and said with forced calmness, “the God Patton himself might actually show up.”

Virgil swore that his heart stopped right then and there. Full on, dead stop. “A _God_?! What the hell are you talking about?! He’s coming here?!”

“It’s this new thing,” Elliott babbled, gesturing at the clothes in Virgil’s arms frantically until Virgil slowly started pulling them on. “It only started in the last few years and only in this country but, recently, whenever a Temple is built, whichever God the Temple is for shows up! They usually mingle for a bit and insist on looking around. I heard that even the God of Logic and all that other stuff showed up in a town a few days away about a month ago! He blessed the town’s teachers, looked around, and then left. People are thinking that the Gods are looking for something or something and that’s why they’re showing up everywhere!”

“Holy shit,” Virgil whispered, pulling his hat on hurriedly. “Holy shit, are you serious?! That’s fucking - we gotta check it out!” He grabbed his boots and practically jammed them on his feet. “We gotta get going now! If we head out now then we can make it to the town by lunchtime! Wait, no, we gotta get an offering! Do you have something to give him? I killed a deer yesterday and I still have its pelt so I’m covered but what about you!?”

Elliott grinned at him and flashed a bright pink ring on their left hand. “I’m good! My Grandma gave me this ring just in case something like this happened before she died years ago. Now come on! We can wait in my house until tonight but we gotta get going!”

Virgil laughed and grabbed Elliott’s hand, pulling them out of the small cabin. “You better have brought your horse and buggy because if I have to walk through all of this snow, I am going to lose it.”

“Of course I did,” Elliott laughed, climbing into the buggy. “And you know that that you could buy a horse of your own from old man Jerry. After you helped him and his wife with that problem they were having, they’d probably give you one for free!” They eyed Virgil’s rising blush with a grin. “And Miss Kitty would give you three buggies for how you helped her with her girlfriend. Heck, she’d give you a carriage!”

“It’s not my fault that I give good advice,” Virgil muttered, ducking his head and trying to get comfortable in his seat. “Besides, Miss Kitty and Jessica’s problem was easy. They just needed to talk, that’s all. I just pointed it out.” He batted Elliott’s arm when he saw them open their mouth to continue talking and - most definitely - continue talking about how Virgil kept getting when it came to giving advice about people’s love lives. “Shut up and get us to town, Elli!”

He ignored Elliott’s laugh and settled back as the horse started making its way back to town. Elliott was just overexaggerating. It wasn’t like Virgil went out looking for people who needed help with their love lives. Just... whenever Virgil was talking to people, the topic of love happened to come up a lot and people always seemed to ask for his advice. Virgil honestly had no idea if the advice he was giving was good, per se. It was just that Virgil seemed to know what he was talking about. People theorized that Virgil had been a Matchmaker before he had come to live here. Virgil wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Besides, it wasn’t just romantic things that people came to Virgil to ask advice on. Virgil had helped with the two orphan boys that had come from the city, the year-long fight that two local sisters were having, and a fight between two best friends. It seemed that Virgil was just good with advice. It wasn’t like it was anything special.

“So, all of the Gods have been showing up lately,” Virgil asked Elliott as the buggy went down the dirt road.

Elliott nodded but then paused. “Well, almost all of them. One of them hasn’t shown up recently. The God of Love and Beauty hasn’t appeared in almost five years now.” They shrugged. “It’s no big deal. I mean, I heard that he was super active before so he’s probably just taking a break. I heard that time passes really quickly for the Gods. I’m sure that he’ll be back sometime soon.

“I mean, what’s the other option? I mean, what kind of bad things can happen to a **_God_**?”

* * *

* * *

* * *

The Temple was beautiful.

Virgil knew that it was nothing compared to the Temples in cities or the Capital. He had heard rumours of those Temples being made from solid gold, with sparkling rubies and sapphires embedded in its walls, and rich offerings given by Kings and Queens stacked through the halls. Compared to those Temples, this little one was nothing. It was barely as big as the local schoolhouse with one room. From looking through the front window, Virgil thought that it looked more like a very cozy and comfortable family room than anything. There was a beautiful fireplace roaring with fire, beds pushed up against the walls, and food stacked on the table. Virgil’s offering of a deer’s pelt was lying on a table along with several others.

“I can’t believe that this is the new Temple,” Virgil whispered to Elliott, both of their eyes wide with wonder. The two of them were at the front of a large crowd in front of the Temple, waiting for entrance. This whole thing was so exciting that Virgil was barely aware of the dull sting from the wind hitting his scars. “I mean, it’s great but it’s... not what I thought it’d look like.” While it might not be what they were expecting, it was still the most wonderful place that either of them had ever seen.

Elliott grinned at him, bouncing up and down in excitement. “Me neither but this is the God of Family and Safe Havens. I bet that this Temple would look a lot different if this was a Temple for the God of Beauty and Love or for the God of Self Preservation. I hear that the God Patton lets people use his Temples as Safe Havens, just like the God Janus.” They gasped when a soft, warm blue light glowed from the inside of the house, bathing everything inside with its light. “Oh my gosh,” they whispered, gripping Virgil’s arm tightly. “Oh my gosh, I can’t believe this, I can’t believe this! He’s actually coming, he’s actually showing up!”

The crowd of people immediately quieted and no one made a single sound. Virgil could’ve dropped a pin and it would’ve been the loudest sound in the entire town. Slowly, the light coming from the Temple died down. Though, and maybe this was just Virgil seeing things, the inside of the Temple seemed warmer somehow. It seemed homier. And the large man standing in the, just minutes before empty, Temple seemed completely right there.

Virgil watched through the front window with wide eyes as the man slowly looked around. He was huge, almost six feet, with curly blond hair and big round glasses that were perched on top of a small bottom nose, covering big blue eyes. There were freckles on each and every inch of the man’s skin and there were laugh lines around his eyes. He was wearing comfortable clothes and had the air of a person that you could trust. The kind of person that you would run to if you had a problem or no one else you could turn to. He looked... like a _Dad_.

He looked _**familiar**_.

The God slowly walked through the Temple with a small smile, gently touching the walls and taking a minute to look at the food. Virgil watched him kneel by the window and gently stroke it for a few seconds, glowing embers jumping from the fire and onto the God’s skin only for the God to brush them from his skin with no sign of injury. And Virgil watched as, slowly, the God stood and made his way to the door leading outside to the crowd waiting outside.

Virgil hurried to kneel with the rest of the town, breath catching at the God stepped outside. Most, including Elliott, had their heads bowed respectfully but Virgil could only gawk dumbly as the God looked out at them with a smile. For almost a second there, it looked like he was looking for something and he had to hold back his disappointment when he didn’t find it. But he kept a smile firmly on his face as he went back to looking through the crowd. He had just opened his mouth to say something when his gaze landed on Virgil’s ugly scarred face. Virgil felt a pit of terror settle into him as the God’s face went from gratitude and forced happiness to an expression that Virgil didn’t have the time to fully understand at before the God was almost running at him.

“ ** _Vergilius_**!”

The crowd scrambled away from Virgil, Elliott being pulled from him from someone, and Virgil felt frozen as the God landed in front of him. Distantly, in the back of Virgil’s mind, he remembered a mean rumour that had circulated when Virgil had first been found. That Virgil had somehow offended a God and, in punishment, the Gods had scarred him and stolen his memory. Virgil had never believed these rumours but now, Virgil thought that it might be true. And if they had stolen Virgil’s memory the first time, Virgil found that he was utterly terrified to discover what they might take this time.

Virgil jumped as large, calloused but gentle hands cupped his cheeks, tilting his head up so he was staring right in the watery eyes of the God of Family and Safe Havens. The God’s glasses were slightly crooked and had slid down right down to the edge of his nose. Tears were making their way down his cheeks and the God’s lips were turned up in a bright, slight disbelieving but so relieved grin. The God was rubbing a thumb into Virgil’s cheek gently while the other was hovering frantically around Virgil like it didn’t know where exactly it should settle. “Oh, _Vergilius_ ,” the God whispered, voice cracking. “Oh, you’re here. You’re _safe_.”

_“Vergilius?”_

_“As in the God Vergilius?!”_

_“The God of Love and Beauty!?”_

_“Virgil, our Virgil?”_

_“What is a God doing living in a cabin on the edge of a poor little town?”_

“I,” Virgil licked his suddenly dry lips, staring at the God in confusion and a bit of fear, “my name is Virgil. I’m sorry but, I think I you got the wrong person. I’m, I’m not,” his words trailed away from him, not sure what to say. He found himself leaning into the God’s hand and had to jerk away. Had to jerk away from the feeling of _‘finally-I’m-finally-home-I-was-so-scared-but-I’m-home-and-I-was-so-scared-but-I-knew-that-you’d-find-me’._

The God laughed, but it sounded more confused than anything. “Kiddo, Vergilius, what are you talking about? Oh, Sweetheart, what happened?” Virgil’s breath caught as one of the God’s huge fingers gently brushed against one of the scars surrounding his eyes. “ _Who did this to you,_ ” the God asked, his voice darkening and full of power. He looked up and he seemed like a God for the first time since he had arrived as he demanded, “ _ **Did these Mortals do this to you?!**_ ”

Almost a full year ago, Elliott had told Virgil that there was a reason that Patton was the God of both Families and Safe Havens. Because no one would dare step into one of the God’s Safe Havens and try to hurt someone who had hidden there. Because those who stayed there were the God’s family and no one would risk Patton’s wrath. Virgil hadn’t been completely convinced if Elliott wasn’t exaggerating back then, of the God’s terrible wrath on those who had hurt those who he had deemed family.

But now, as the ground started to shake and the sun started to burn impossibly bright, Virgil knew that Elliott had been under-exaggerating.

“Wait,” Virgil cried, lurching forward and grabbing Patton’s arm desperately just as the God had started to rise. “Please, don’t hurt them! They saved me, they didn’t hurt me,” he pleaded. “Please, please don’t hurt them, please.”

The God stared down at Virgil, one hand still cupping his cheek. “You’re sure,” he asked softly, the shaking ground slowly calming and the sun’s harsh beams dimming slightly. “Are you sure, Sweetheart? They’ve helped you?”

“They found me in a bronze net,” Virgil babbled, keeping a tight grip on Patton’s arm like he could single-handedly stop the God if he tried anything. “Elliott did. They found me without my memories and brought me to a Doctor and healed me. They gave me a house and land and fruit trees and seeds and they never hurt me, I promise, I swear!” His chest was burning with the love he had for this small town and the people in it and he was honestly afraid that his chest would burst from just how much of it there was.

There was a long pause before the God slowly pulled Virgil up until he was standing, paying attention only to Virgil and giving none of it to the townfolks watching with bated breath. Both of Patton’s hands cupped Virgil’s cheeks and he asked softly, voice almost unhearable, “Do you know who I am, Kiddo? Do you remember me?”

Virgil blinked and the tears that had been building during his frantic plea starting slowly trickling down his face. “You’re Patton,” he whispered softly, “the God of Families and Safe Havens. The Creator of Janus, the God of Self Preservation and, and a lot of other things. The Father of the Council of Gods.” He let out a shaky breath as the God bowed his head, letting his forehead rest on Virgil’s. “Am... am I wrong?”

The God let out a shaky, pained laugh. “No, Kiddo. No, you’re not wrong.” He looked up at the pale, terrified Mayor and gave him a wobbly smile “Thank you for the Temple. It’s beautiful. I love it.” He turned back to Virgil and gently petted his hair. “I need you to come with me, okay Darling? I know this is all probably very scary and overwhelming for you but I need you to be brave, okay?”

“You... you won’t hurt them,” Virgil asked shakily, looking over his shoulder at the townsfolk. Even though they looked terrified, many of them managed to give Virgil weak and encouraging smiles. One of them, an older lady named Miss Julia, looked like the only reason she wasn’t beating Patton away with her cane was her partner, Hannah, gripping onto her arm tightly. “Right? They protected me. You promise you won’t hurt them?”

The God smiled at him gently, pressing a kiss onto his forehead. “I promise, Sweetheart.” And, with that, Virgil was pulled into a gentle hug and his face was gently pushed into the God’s shoulder so he couldn’t see what was happening. Virgil was about to pull away, terrified that he’d look back to see that his town had been wiped off the map, but he found himself falling limp into the God’s arm when a warm, safe feeling flooded into him and the ground was whisked out from under him. The harsh winter wind disappeared and, for one brief moment, there was only Virgil and the God.

And then, Virgil stumbled as a floor reappeared under his feet. Even without looking, Virgil knew that it was the most expensive floor that he could remember standing on. It was smooth and felt like it had been freshly waxed. He pulled back away from Patton and looked around, eyes widening. Now, _this_ was a Temple.

They were in a large room that wouldn’t look out of place as a King’s throne room. Nine empty thrones were placed around the room, all of them looking completely different from each other. And, for some reason, Virgil felt drawn toward the smallest, almost dainty looking one on the far left side of the room. Like it was meant to be his.

“Does this room seem similar to you at all,” the God asked gently, keeping one hand on Virgil’s shoulder. He seemed to deflate a little when Virgil shook his head. “Okay, that's okay, Kiddo. Now, I want you to wait here, okay Hon? I’m going to get our friends and we can talk this whole thing out.” He leaned forward and gave Virgil a gentle kiss on his forehead before leaving the throne room and leaving Virgil alone.

Virgil swallowed and looked around slowly, trying his best to get his bearings. The room was gorgeous but his eyes kept getting drawn to the small, purple and black throne. It was deceptively dainty looking almost like the throne of a Queen that Virgil had seen once in a book Elliott had given him. But, even from halfway across the room, Virgil could see that the metal was sharp and there were two small, detachable knives on the arms of the throne that would’ve been perfect if the person sitting there suddenly needed something to throw. And there was a power simply radiating from the throne, like if the wrong person sat in it then they’d simply cease to exist.

It was _beautiful_.

There was a sudden flurry of noise and Virgil spun around, tensing up defensively. The noise was coming from a doorway and Virgil could hear one voice rising above all the others, “You can’t be serious, Patton! He’s been in a dirt poor farm town this entire time?!” There was the soft of Patton answering back, though Virgil couldn’t make out exactly what he said, and the same voice from before snapped back, “No way! Vergilius wouldn’t stay away from us, we’re his family! Whoever you brought back is an imposter, it has to be!”

Virgil stepped forward nervously, walking up to the doorway and standing right beside it but still not be seen. A new voice jumped in, low and suave. “We don’t know that, Roman. We should meet him, just in case it really is Vergilius!”

“But what if this is some evil Warlock who tries to put us under his spell?!”

“Roman - hes’s not a Warlock!”

Virgil jumped at a new voice snapped out, “ _Enough_!” Roman, Remus, Emile, Remy, you four stay here. Myself, Patton, and Janus will meet with... whoever Patton has brought here.”

“It’s Vergilius,” Patton cried, sounding close to tears. “Logan, I promise-”

“I know, Patton, I know. We’re just going to check that this is Vergilius for certain, okay Sweetling? And if this truly is Vergilius, we’ll want to make sure that he’s okay first before bombarding him all at once. This is just to be safe.”

“And if _this_ is an imposter, then me and Roman will stab him to death and push him into a vat of boiling poison!”

“For once, I agree with my brother.”

Virgil felt a cold stab of fear before it was overwhelmed with the feeling of hot, harsh anger. He was basically dragged here, taken from his home because apparently, some God thought that he was the God of Love and Beauty - fucking ridiculous - and now some other God decided that if he didn’t look enough like this missing God than they were going to be taking Virgil’s life as punishment. Who the fuck did this guy think he was? Before Virgil even knew what he was doing, he was already halfway through the door and spitting out, “Well I _fucking_ don’t!”

The hallway was filled with eight people, all who turned at the sound of Virgil’s voice, but Virgil turned all of his attention to the one with a sword drawn and glaring daggers at Virgil. He didn’t half to be a genius to know that this was the guy who had called him an imposter and jumped right on board with the ‘Killing Virgil’ plan. Virgil decided that he didn’t like this guy.

The guy - he had to be God - puffed up and stalked up to Virgil, baring his teeth at him. “How dare you wear the face of my friend, you _imposter_!”

“I’m not a fucking imposter and I’m not your fucking friend,” Virgil snapped, planting his feet and glaring up at him. The God glared right back at him with bright red eyes, gripping his sword so tightly that his knuckles were turning bright white. “So don’t go yelling at me!” He pushed at the God’s sword arm so hard that the God nearly dropped his weapon.

There was a moment of tense silence before one of the others cleared their voice, stepped forward with a raised finger and said, “Just so you all know, I’m on Pattycake’s side. That is _definitely_ Vergilius.” They stepped back with a smirk as the God with the sword turned his glare at him. “Hey, just saying, Roman.”

The God - Roman - huffed and turned his snarl back to Virgil. “I don’t care what you say, Remy. I know Verglius and he wouldn’t hide out in some random town while we’re all looking for him!”

“My name isn’t Vergilius,” Virgil snapped, feeling the urge to stop his foot. “It’s Virgil! I don’t know any of you guys and my name is Virgil!”

Roman spread his arm and nodded firmly. “See!? Even the Mortal agrees! This was just a mistake.” He sheathed his sword and offered Virgil his arm with a sharp smile. “If you’ll come with me, I’ll escort you back to your home and we can go back to looking for the _real_ Vergilius.”

“Wait,” Patton cried, stepping forward and shoving himself between Virgil and Roman. “Roman, I know that this is Vergilius, I just know it! He told me that he had no memories, he told me this! Logan,” he turned to a short man who was staring at Virgil with dark narrowed eyes, “Logan, you believe me, don’t you?”

“...He _does_ bear an uncanny resemblance to Vergilius,” Logan hummed, stroking his chin with thin, boney fingers. “And if he did indeed lose his memories than that would explain why Vergilius never sent word and how he gained those scars. Though, we have had many imposters in the last five years that you were also sure was Vergilius, Patton,” he continued gently.

“It’s Virgil,” Virgil said sharply, straightening up and glaring at the God.

Logan sighed in frustration and opened his mouth but was cut off by that same suave voice from before. “Well, then, there really is a simple way of solving this, isn’t there?” Virgil turned to look at who was talking and froze.

Staring back at him was a man with sharp golden eyes and bright green scales going down the left half of his face, staring down at Virgil with an unreadable expression. He tilted his head and said smoothly with a shrug, “Make him sit in Vergilius’ chair.”

One of the Gods who hadn’t spoken yet - a God who looked very similar to Patton but with bright pink and blue eyes, long brown hair instead of blond, and an outfit that wouldn’t look out of place on a scholar - stepped forward with a frown. “But, Janus, that’s not fair to the Mortal! Patton brought him here, he didn’t come here claiming to be Vergilius! If it turns out that he isn’t Vergilius then the power will overwhelm him and -”

“Wait,” Virgil cried, throwing his hands up in the air. He tilted his chin up and glared at the intimidating God, Janus. “Sitting in that chair will prove whether or not I’m this Vergilius?” Janus had barely nodded before Virgil was turning back to the throne room to sit in the stupid damn chair so he could go back to his farm and sleep until fucking spring.

But Janus’ hand snapped out and grabbed Virgil’s wrist, stopping him in his tracks. “As a favour to Emile here,” he said, nodding at the God with pink and blue eyes, “I will warn you to what the chair will do if you’re not Vergilius.” His lips quirked up. “Unless you’d like to just charge in and sit in it without knowing.”

Virgil wanted to scream, he really did. He could be told what would happen if he wasn’t Vergilius - which judging from what Emile had been saying was probably nothing good - and lose his nerve. Which might just prove to these Gods that he was an imposter and Virgil would be in for a world of pain. Or he would just go in to sit on the throne and damn the consequences.

Virgil blamed the decision he made next on how angry he currently was. There was no way for any anxiety or common sense to peek out and make Virgil nervous enough to take a second and really think about what he was about to do. Before he could fully think about what he was doing, Virgil ripped his wrist away from the smirking God and turned back to the Throne Room, stomping across the hall and ignoring the calls of Patton and Emile to wait and let them explain first before trying it.

Instead, he hoisted himself upon the Throne and sat back, closing his eyes.

It was the most comfortable chair _ever_. It was like someone had studied Virgil’s body and had shaped the Throne around him. The pillow on the throne felt like it was stuffed full of duck feathers and was made out of velvet. _Velvet_. Virgil had never even _seen_ velvet before. It was the most comfortable Throne in the history of Thrones. Virgil didn’t know how he knew that and he wasn’t going to think on too closely.

“Okay, so, I sat in the stupid chair,” Virgil groaned as he leant forward. As sad as he was to get out of the Throne, he _really_ wanted to go home and check-in with the rest of the townsfolk. “Can I go home now?” He froze though when he opened his eyes and saw all eight Gods standing around him and watching him with various expressions on their faces.

“I knew it,” Patton whispered a large grin on his face and tears gathering in his eyes. “I _knew_ it.”

Roman was staring at Virgil in numb shock, tears running down his cheek. “Oh... you’re really him,” he whispered. His hand twitched like he wanted to pull Virgil into a hug but he couldn’t commit to the action. “ _ **Vergilius**.”_

Virgil twitched backward, leaning back into the throne. “No, I told you. My name’s Virgil. I’m not -”

“You are,” Janus said, stepping forward. He was smiling at Virgil with tears in his eyes, looking so happy and relieved. “That throne was made specifically for Vergilius and your atoms would’ve melted if you weren’t truly Vergilius. Even if you don’t remember your life as Vergilius or don’t remember us, you are our Vergilius.” His smile grew into a large grin. “Oh, Dear One, I’m so happy that you’re safe.”

Virgil blinked dumbly, feeling like everything he knew had just been turned upside down and nothing made sense anymore. He didn’t want to believe it. He just wanted to go back home, visit with Elliott, and then sleep in his own bed. He didn’t want to believe it.

But he did.

“I don’t understand,” he whispered, tears of confusion pricking at his eyes. “If I... if I really am Vergilius... then what happened? How did... where... _What happened?”_

Janus pulled Virgil into a tight hug, holding him so tightly like he was terrified that if he let go than Virgil would disappear. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t. But we’re going to find out. And until we do, we’re never going to let something like this happen again. I _promise.”_


	7. Definitely just a cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Sickness and rashes
> 
> Summary: Logan is the Stepfather of two boys, Janus and Virgil. And his Husband, Patton, might have been keeping some secrets about the boy’s father that are about to come to light. The question is, how should Logan respond?

“It’s just a cold, Patton,” Logan said softly, trying to stay calm as his Husband panicked in the background. He was standing in front of the oven, stirring a large pot of tomato bisque. He could hear his twin stepsons from their rooms, both of them coughing hard. “They probably just caught something while they were swimming the other day. It is no reason to worry. A terrible way to spend their birthday though.” Especially since this was the first one that Logan was going to spend with them as their stepfather. He had had so much planned to. Hopefully, the two of them would be fine with a bowl of tomato bisque and a glass of flat ginger ale instead of a dinner at their favourite restaurant.

Patton paced behind him, chewing on his thumbnail anxiously. “Right,” he muttered, staring at the ground. He looked distracted like he wasn’t fully listening to what Logan was saying. “Definitely just a cold. As long as we can get past today then,” he cut himself off, his jaw closing with a click.

Logan gave him a frown over his shoulder. “It is not that bad of a cold, Love. Just a bad cough.”

“They have rashes,” Patton muttered. “The _exact same rash_ on their necks. How do you not find that strange?”

“I wouldn’t call it strange,” Logan said, turning to face him, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ve already had a doctor over and they are very mild. It’s probably either a very mild allergic reaction - which we have EpiPens for - or, most likely, stress. You know how stressed the two of them have been lately.” He stepped forward, putting a hand on Patton’s shoulder. “Darling, they’re both fine. Hardly happy about spending their thirteenth birthdays in bed but medically? They’re two very healthy boys.”

But Patton didn’t seem to take in his reassurances at all, shrugging off Logan’s hand and wringing his own anxiously. “I should’ve known this would happen, I _should’ve_! Remus _told_ me that this would happen!”

“Remus?” Logan felt a headache looming and had to fight the urge to sit down. “Your ex-husband?”

“Do I know any other Remus,” Patton asked sharply, spinning around on his heel. The two of them stared at each other with mirror expressions of surprise, Logan at the tone Patton was using and Patton at just how sharp his voice was. “I’m sorry,” Patton whispered, taking a step back. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“It’s alright,” Logan said gently, uncrossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. “Patton, it’s okay. But I feel as if I am attempting to complete an equation but have only been given one number with an equation full of variables. You have to tell me what’s happening. What exactly did Remus tell you?”

Patton hesitated for a long moment before shaking his head and grabbing two empty bowls from the cupboard. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Patton-”

“It doesn’t,” Patton said firmly. “Like you said, it’s just a cold.”

Logan watched Patton closely, seeing how tense Patton was standing and how he was glancing at the two seashells on the counter. The last and only gifts that Remus had left for his sons before they had even been born. The gifts that Remus had apparently made Patton swear to wait until Janus and Virgil were thirteen to give them. Patton was hiding something. “Remus is their biological father,” Logan said gently. “It could be that he knows of a health issue in his family. Should we bring them to a hospital for a second look?”

“It’s not a medical issue,” Patton sighed, turning to Logan with two full bowls of bisque. “You have to trust me on this, Lolo. It’s... it’s something from Remus’ side that he said would show up on their thirteen birthday. I never really believed him about it but... all of this...”

“What is it, Love?” Logan leaned down and cupped Patton’s cheek, smiling when Patton leaned into his hand. “Please tell me.”

Patton hesitated. “You’re gonna think it’s crazy. Heck, _I_ don’t even believe it. Before now, I thought it was just another one of Remus’ crazy stories. But there are too many things that line up here.”

Logan chuckled. “My Love, life is full of mysteries. You could tell me that Remus said that those boys would grow horns today and I would just focus on cutting holes into their hats for them. Let me in on this secret, Darling.” He gently rubbed circles into Patton’s cheek. “Please?”

There was a long silence. “... Tails, not horns.”

Logan blinked in surprise. “I’m sorry?”

“He said that they’d grow tails,” Patton whispered, gaze drifting down to the ground. “And gills. Or sharp teeth and long talons. Or all four. He told me that he was... um, well, not exactly a Mermaids. He said his mother was a Mermaid and his father was a Siren. Apparently, he took after his father and _his_ twin took after his mother. So, Janus and Virgil have-”

“Human, Siren, and Mermaid blood in their DNA,” Logan hummed, hand falling from Patton’s cheek. He tapped his chin thoughtfully, pursing his lips. Well, that was... that was just utter nonsense. 

Patton continued talking, wringing his hands nervously. “He told me that half Mermaids and Sirens come into their blood on their thirteen birthdays. I don’t know if they’ll come into their Mermaid blood or Siren blood but from the way things are looking, they’re going to come into one and I don’t know what to do,” he cried, eyes pooling with tears.

Logan stared at Patton, expression softening with every second. Utter nonsense... that his Husband believed. Well, that was that then. “Then I suppose we should prepare then,” he hummed, taking the bowls from Patton and turning to put them into the microwave.

“What,” Patton asked dumbly, staring at him in confusion. “Prepare?”

“Of course. I will go and get the truck warmed. You go and bring the boys down, along with some blankets to keep Janus and Virgil warm. I’ll grab some firewood and my matches. We can start a fire on the beach,” Logan explained, grabbing the truck keys from the counter. “We have hotdogs, correct? That shouldn’t upset their stomachs much.”

Patton stepped in front of Logan, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Love, what are you talking about?”

Logan arched an eyebrow. “Getting the boys close to the beach, of course. On the chance that you’re correct then we’ll want to make sure that they’re close to saltwater in case they grow gills. And if they get through the rest of the day without growing gills then it will just be a good story about how we threw them an impromptu birthday celebration on the beach.” He shrugged. “I’ll admit, I find the whole thing about Sirens and Mermaids hard to believe. However, I’d rather be safe than sorry. For now, let us just get things-” he stumbled back as Patton surged forward, cupping Logan’s cheeks and pressing a passionate kiss to his lips that Logan slowly melted into.

When he pulled back, there was a large grin on Patton’s face and the tears in his eyes were from relief rather than helplessness. “Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you _so much.”_

“Anything for you,” Logan whispered, a smile tugging at his lips. “Forever and always, My Love. I will always do whatever I can to help you and our boys. And now, let’s go get ready for our beach celebration. And to throw our boys into the sea if it comes to that.”


End file.
